Ariel Sarver

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He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Three lemon meringue pies.” “… Pies?” I asked. Of all the things I thought a dragon would ask for, sweets weren’t one of them. “You eat pies?” “No, I shove them up my ass,” he growled. “Yes, I eat them.
That Time I Got Drunk and Yeeted a Love Potion at a Werewolf (Mead Mishaps, #2)
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